AUTHOR'S NOTE: This was written as a joke in response to being woken up by my lover who was, well, in midst of -- uhm -- the deed ... all unbeknownst to me. I woke up all kind of confused and I slapped him (kinda hard). He was all indignant, then got all spooked and apologized (ahem, after we'd finished), stating he thought it would be cute to wake me up like that. Entitlement is a funny thing at 4:30am though.
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It's okay if they don't fight back, he recited to himself feeling the limp body over his shoulder and his growing erection straining against his acid washed, Guess jean waist. He hefted her weight over his shoulder and she flopped down on the table groaning incoherently. She mumbled something about the metal lamps overhead being shiny as he stretched her left leg over the stirrup and strapped it in, only to do a half turn and repeating with the other leg in relevant silence. She was naked already except for a blanket that he had wrapped around her but it now failed to protect her exposed sex. As any good boyfriend would have done, he had wrapped her to protect her modesty but now was no time for modesty. The breeding was to begin.
Tyler -- at least what he'd decided to call himself here -- really did love her but knew, deep down, that their mutual love for each other was dangerous. When he began to mistake their love making for a real human relationship it was time to impregnate, imprison and move on. She had no free will under the power of his race. Sure, he was hominid but his race was long dying and their time tables had shifted to a matter of priorities verses sensibility. Offspring were important to the tribal leaders than love or emotion, just as were the female vessels they needed to conceive their young and no woman had been born to his people since the Great Tainting. It was earth's women that held the key to their survival. They were the queens of tomorrow; willing or not.
Adele was the prime of that type, a young black haired and blue eyed beauty with great lineage, prime in her health, well-educated and perfect in all the many ways he needed her to be. Her figure was chiseled and yet accented with fine curves that in the fleshy-tan of her body, soaked only in the bright Hawaii sun, she was a marvel to behold. And, yet, her fated quality was that she was alone. Having left her comfortable nest, two thousand miles away from home, and working long hours to live in paradise, it had taken him months to even land a date with her, months to court her, and now he was going to reap his wild reward.
Her birth control he'd sabotaged with sugar pills and he'd been cooking dinner for weeks, priming her with enough hormones to stimulate the ovulation he needed. At night he'd prick her very gently for a drop of blood off from her finger while she slept under his hypnotic gaze and tonight he knew she was ovulating.
Tonight she'd get no choice, and he grieved for that fact, that she was another missing person poster amongst a mass of nobodies. But her reality would change. It was a price the best had to pay and he was no longer capable of empathy when the ends truly justified his means.
He shifted around her, opening the blanket and exposing her breasts in his ship's operations room. Very coldly he conducted his prep business, as he made his logs and adjusted her. Then he undressed.
Cold hard muscle crawled out of his layers of clothes, linking each frame of his body in smooth transition to the next. By the time he'd stripped to his boxers his erection was shifting up out of the elastic waist band like a big purple flare, the second head, which fell just above his testes was smaller, but it was meant to stimulate the anus as well. He was not small; but she'd taken him before -- although he'd never exposed his dual genitalia to her.
